


Kilig

by Miah_Kat



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miah_Kat/pseuds/Miah_Kat
Summary: Kilig: (n.) the rush or inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiences after seeing something romanticThe drawings begin appearing when he is five.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my lovely friend Darcy's birthday! ❤
> 
> You should totally visit her [here](https://l1nkp1t.tumblr.com/) btw, she writes adorable MakoHaru fanfics!

> **heavily inspired by[this au](http://pxstergirl.tumblr.com/post/146330773175/soulmate-au-where-when-you-write-something-on-your)**

  
The drawings begin appearing when he is five. Little stars and moons hidden between his knuckles, loopty-loops twirling between his fingers, and shaky geometric shapes on the inside of his wrists. Sometimes they even come in colors, much to his delight. Makoto loves to watch them appear on his skin, line after line creating something new and beautiful.

“You should send something back,” his mother says one day after he runs to show her the newest mark. Makoto cocks his head at that, staring up at her in confusion. She smiles at him, drying her hands of the soapy dishwater, before kneeling down to take his tiny hands in hers.

“These are from your soulmate,” she explains, tracing a finger over the newest drawing of a crude little turtle in a deep green. “They might like it if you wrote to them or drew a companion to this little guy.”

“My soulmate…?” the boy repeats in awe, looking at the marks with new perspective. There is someone out there, creating these, drawing on their skin almost daily and maybe, maybe, hoping for a response. Green eyes widening, Makoto rushes off to find a pen so that his soulmate won’t have to wait a moment longer.

He doesn’t quite understand the implications of what “soulmate” entails but he knows—someday, he wants to meet the person capable of creating such lovely art.

* * *

**hi my name is makoto who r u**  
_haru_  
**hi haruchan u r good at drawing**  
_thanks_  
**im xcited to meat u 1day. mama says were soulmates thats why we can writ like this**  
_yea my nana told me  
_ **:)**

***don’t forget: English quiz on Thursday!!!**  
_Good luck_

**I love this one! Your style has really evolved**

_Don’t forget your lunch again_  
**Aah thanks!! Have a good day  
** _You too._

**Hey you haven’t been drawing as much lately are you okay?**

_Thanks for being there for me Makoto…_

**I can’t believe we’re graduating! Maybe we’re more likely to meet now**  
_That’d be nice_

* * *

The drawings became more detailed over time; now, twenty years later, Makoto’s arms are so often covered in intricate artwork that he’s lost count of the times people have come up and asked about where he goes to get his ‘tattoos’. It gives him an odd sense of pride to see how his soulmate’s talent affects others.

He takes a glance at his wrist where his own handwriting greets him from between the vines of a flower. With his arms almost never bare Makoto never bothered with writing reminder notes to himself on paper; it’s much easier to add to his skin. Plus his soulmate seems to enjoy doodling borders around his notes or drawing stars next to important dates so that Makoto won’t forget.

Even as Makoto waits in line for his coffee little leaves appear on some of the more bare vines, circling carefully around his handwriting so as not to obscure it. Smiling, Makoto takes the pen he always keeps in his pocket and draws a small smiley kaomoji at the end of his reminder’s sentence. Immediately, a second one shows up beside it before the artist resumes working on the flower’s vines.

Makoto’s eyes wander over the entirety of his left arm, taking in the sleeve of art with a fond grin. The flowers at his wrist wind their way into detailed mandalas made to mimic the waves of the sea where various sea creatures can be found hidden between the designs. But the eye-catcher is one of Makoto’s favorite designs Haru has done thus far; a dolphin and orca circling one another in a yin and yang fashion. It’s not the first time Haru has drawn them but he does it rarely enough that it’s a treat to see.

His order is called, forcing the brunet to tear his eyes away from the ever-growing art and take his coffee before aiming for a table in the corner to get started on his newest essay. He’s a regular by this point so the staff usually keep his favorite spot free for him when they can, something he’s eternally grateful for on days such as this. Makoto winds his way through the crowd—they’re a rather popular cafe as they’re located in between two of Tokyo’s largest universities—and plops down in his seat with a sigh of relief.

He’s pulled out his laptop and is waiting for it to boot up when he notices a dark-haired figure a few tables in front of him. He can’t say what it is that immediately holds his interest about them, as they’re hunched over the table and thus blocking any real view of their features, but…he can’t look away. He stares, transfixed, and with bated breath, as the boy raises his head and rotates his shoulders to ease the tension from being huddled over whatever’s before him. Makoto watches as he angles his head to crack his neck, showing off a profile with a strong chin, high cheekbones, a straight nose, and the bluest eyes Makoto’s ever seen.

He’s so focused on how beautiful a color his eyes are that he nearly misses the flash of ink as the boy reaches up his arms in a stretch—and suddenly Makoto is gasping because that might as well be _his_ arm, with the swirling mandala ocean and an orca circling a dolphin. It’s unmistakable. It’s incredible. It's—

“ _Haru_.”

The name comes out in a hushed rush of air filled with awe; there’s no way anyone should be able to hear it in the white noise the crowd around them provides and yet…

Those oceanic eyes are staring right into his.

Heart pounding in his chest, Makoto stares at the boy—his _soulmate_ —for far longer than is polite but neither seem concerned in the least. Moments pass before Makoto gathers a bit of his wit back and fumbles for the pen in his pocket. He uncaps it with shaky fingers and, with a quick glance at the back of his hand, he scribbles frantically:

_Found you, Haru-chan_.

He snaps his gaze up again to see the boy now staring at his own hand with what looks like a smile and suddenly his hand tingles with the familiar sensation that he long-ago learned comes with the beginnings of new art. Heart now in his throat, he looks down to watch words appear in what feels like slow motion. When they’re complete Makoto can’t help but laugh giddily before he’s on his feet and hurrying towards the chuckling artist.

_Drop the -chan_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :D
> 
> Come yell with me over OTPs (or anything really) at **my tumblr:[sawamura-daichis-thighs](http://www.sawamura-daichis-thighs.tumblr.com/)**


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